THE THATCHED COTTAGE, February 19th.
Gabriel and I are sitting in the study; we have your letter before
us. These few lines are to thank you, if we can, for your most
precious words. Now nothing fails us.
Your most loving, grateful,
EMILIA FLETCHER.
Your servant,
GABRIEL NORTON.
P.S. The blot is Gabriel's.
P.S. 2. In answer to yours. Gabriel is not so inconsistent as you
suppose, nor is Emilia. We have made a provision to which you,
Constance Norris, shall bear witness. Namely this: that, in
accordance with the absolute Sincerity and Truthfulness which we
believe to be not only possible, but necessary to the Conduct of a
Noble Life, we have solemnly promised each other to confess the
truth, should we at any future period--through altered Love or other
causes--consider Mutual Life inconsistent with perfect Honesty.
There! We have worded that beautifully, I think, although Gabriel
insists that "Mutual Life" is an incorrect expression. I don't care;
it says what I mean. Needless to add that, in our case, such a
prevision is as good as superfluous, but we feel bound to act up to
our principles!